


The Green Dress

by MissAtomicBomb77



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAtomicBomb77/pseuds/MissAtomicBomb77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no prevailing, the two of them, outside of this room. There is no living like they want outside this moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Green Dress

**Author's Note:**

> This was a response to a number of requests, direct and indirect that wanted to see Charlie and Leona together in the present day. Not part of my series of things about them during the Vietnam War. Not canon, but not AU either.
> 
> It was untitled until a piece of fan art surfaced that by sheer coincidence featured Leona in a green dress.

He was glad to leave the noise of the party. They were never his deal anyway and New Year’s Eve parties suffered more noise pollution than any other kind of party that existed. Extraction from such a party is easy, escaping somewhere else in the city was another matter altogether. It took him over an hour to get back to building and he knew that there was no way he was getting home tonight. 

It may have been a new year, but patterns never cease. He comes to the door, ready to knock because he can never remember the damned security code, but finds the solid wood panel door ajar and an angry red light blinking above the keypad. He looks down and a solidary shoe is wedged in the opening. He picks up the wayward shoe as he enters her sanctuary. 

As he crosses the threshold, he takes a moment to appreciate her, lying on the white sofa, turned away from the door, arms hanging over the back of the couch. She’s in this dress he’s never seen before, all emerald green that shimmered and yet was crinkled at the same time. It was long, long, cascading off the sofa yet her shoulders completely exposed and her arms bare. Her hair was swept up, wavy, a shade darker than usual, a hint of a sparkle. When the door clicks close, she turns now, and he sees now that she had been smoking. She leans to the coffee table and extinguishes the joint, making no effort to hide the fact or make an excuse for it.

He makes no comment on it as he sets the shoe on the ground, next to its mate near the door. He takes a moment now and toes out of his own dress shoes. It’s a sore point for them, she uses it for pain and it’s just a reminder to him that she’s in pain. He’s not surprised, it was the New Year, she probably danced with anyone she could find for hours and would not have been alone for any amount of time this evening. While she’s turned to the table, she snatches her emerald teardrop earnings off and they make a clatter as they hit the glass tabletop. 

“Can I offer you anything?” She asks, turning back and returning to her spot leaning over the back of couch. 

“No, thank you.” He crosses the room now, lit only by the gas fireplace and sits right to her. As he sits, he undoes his black tie and finally starts to feel relaxed. He was fairly certain that other than the cab ride here, this was the first time he managed to actually sit all evening. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly. It wasn’t a reference to the joint and she knew it.

She turns now, looks at him as rolls away and sits into the couch a little more properly, her head titled slightly against the back instead of hanging over. “I’m still angry about… work if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I was. I am.” He says and his hand reaches out for hers, finding it and their fingers tangled easily enough. 

“There are seven board members that have not made a decision on whether or not to issue the resolution asking for my resignation. If four of them agree, they have the majority and I’ve learned that they believe to have cause.” She pauses a moment and he feels her grip tighten. “Then I receive notice of the resolution and the dance begins, ending in me leaving with a fist full of cash and my tail between my legs.”

“Nah,” he says softly. “It will never come to that.”

“Four people, I honestly didn’t think it would come that close.” She says to him. “I’m not sure what I would do now. This has been life for… well, you know.”

“I know, believe me I know,” he pauses, his other arm coming around and his knuckles brushing against her cheek. “What would you do?” His hand falls away from her face.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Write maybe? I used to do that once.”

“You did it well. I can imagine it would come back to you if you wanted it to. Would it be enough?”

“No, and I think that’s what scares me.” Her eyes shimmered slightly and she was trying not to let it out. 

“Happy New Year,” he offers now, trying to shake her from her dark thoughts.

“Ha,” she says, “Happy New Year.”

“May I?” he asks.

She shakes her head in approval and the fingers that were tangled in hers free themselves and slide to her wrist as his other hand comes around to her waist. He pulls her and she comes easily to him, he drags her across his lap, the dress was the only noise in the room and soon enough she was in his arms. Her arms tangle around his neck and he offers her a kiss and she accepts.

“You will always be my Lovely Leona,” he offers. He’s going to press his luck in a moment and before he does, he awaits her reaction.

It started on the eve of her birthday; they were spending time together and it was as if no time had passed between them. Her spirits were high and for once, not even drug induced. It was a joke, how bowties can make people look like gifts. She humored him and with her wrists playfully bound in a silk red bowtie before he lost himself and kissed her. It scared her and he knew it because in a moment she was gone and nothing but a scrap of silk remained him his hands.

Then the next day, he sheepishly hid in his office all day. It was her birthday and other than her son, no one else knew because it was a fact she kept from the world. Yet when he looked up and he finally saw her on his office doorstep, he was ready with cake. This time she was high and she ate most of it over the course of the night. 

Her birthday took a turn when she dropped a full bottle of champagne and for reasons that surpassed him, she cried. Deep, deep racking sobs that shook her and he just took her into his arms and held her for however long it was. It would be a few more days before she disclosed to him what was actually going on.

They later joked how they were parents to the kids downstairs and he watched her blush when she admitted one of them reminded her of him when he was younger. They even jokingly considered themselves work husband and work wife, and while it was a lame joke, it worked, bringing her smiles back to her face. 

Then they were lighthearted and talking about days long gone. He didn’t want the night to end and that’s how they found themselves walking the streets of New York. All he could think was that she wanted him to stay. They didn’t talk about the night before, and she couldn’t bear to send him away. It gave him hope he hadn’t broken their fragile relationship.

When they finally wandered back to the building, he put her into a town car at the break of dawn, he gave her a kiss and there was no restraint on either of their parts. It was foolish, they were on the streets right in front of the building, but in that moment when the night ended and the dawn broke, there was no one to notice.

It was the next night where she admitted that she still harbored feelings for him. If his life was a box with the important events inside, that admission was akin to dumping the contents of the box onto his head. 

The day after Christmas, he pushed his luck again and she responded by taking his breath away. Later that night, he took hers. They both forgot themselves, badly and when her body quivered and shook under his touch without a piece of clothing out of place, they both ran from each other.

The next night, they came back to the flame again and while they were on better behavior, something lingered in the air. The next morning is when he learned about the shit storm with the board of the directors. He understood now, her responses to his reckless behavior made sense to him. She was never one to abandon her senses let alone so much in so many days. He feels that he’s been taking advantage of her now, but it’s quite the opposite, she’s been looking for something to calm the storm and she’s come to him to do it.

So he waits now, waits for her approval and she gives it, a nod and his lips are on hers but now he’s just going to stop thinking and let go. His hand is at her face and his thumb tugs at the corner of her lips coaxing them open. He tastes of bourbon, she tastes of marijuana and the sigh that escaped her was only fuel to him now. If he was a younger man, he would have scooped her up and carried her away. Now he has to settle for rising and bringing them to their feet, not losing her lips.

One of his hands finds her hips, the other creeps up her back to help to gently hold her head upright. He steps forward and starts to walk and lead her back, around the couch. She understands his intentions now and when they clear the sofa she breaks away from his and takes his hand to lead him in the darkness, into the wild.

The rest of the room is dark, very dark and she knows it by heart. He’s never been past the sofa, yet he knows there’s a window to the world somewhere and now he understands his confusion, for it is hidden behind a curtain. Normally the soft glow of Manhattan warmed the far end of the room. Not tonight. There may have been purpose behind that. It would be only two dozen steps or so, but he knows they are where they need to be when the back of knees feels a bed; her hands cup his face and find his lips again.

He shrugs out of his jacket, the Armand Fellini she bought him a few years ago and now his hands cover hers, tracing her arms down and back up her shoulders. Her soft skin and all he can think is that it’s amazing to feel under his fingers once again. He was remembering everything that he forgotten without having to struggle, because she was at his fingertips right now and it was glorious.

Her hands drift down, working the buttons carefully, exposing his undershirt. When she’s reached the last button, his hands break away from her body to whip the shirt off his arms and his body. He’s not sure but he thinks she whimpers when their lips break apart so he can throw his undershirt off. She crushes back against him now and he feels the strange fabric of her dress against his chest. Her arms are underneath his now and her hands over his shoulders and she’s tugging on him, as if she’s trying to pull him down. He wraps his arms around her now.

He’s not going to relent yet somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that they will be well and truly tangled in that dress if they lay on it while she’s still in it. At this exact moment, he doesn’t trust himself not to rip the thing if it got in his way. He didn’t want anything to be in the way. His voice his deep and rough now as he asks, because he has to ask. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathes and his fingers feel clumsy but he finds a zipper soon enough and down it goes. Down and down and past her ass and he knows instantly the moment she decides to step away it’s going to fall to the floor. He thinks he’s going to feel her flesh and he’s in awe when that’s not the case. A corset and he half wonders if he’s dead.

“I want to see you,” he pleads, “Just a little light.”

She step back and as predicted, the dress drops and she steps out and away for a moment. He hears a slight hum and the curtain starts to move and stops a moment later, opening only a foot or so. Light and she glows as the light illuminates her from behind, a modest corset and stockings that exposed several inches of thigh.  
His knees are weak now and he finds himself searching for the bed behind him in order to sit down. 

She’s scared thinking that maybe his heart has given out and she’s back to him now. She is quickly put at peace at once when his hands return to her, all over her, feeling every inch of her undergarments and discovering them. He’s tugging on her now and she finds herself sitting in his lap and his face is serious as he finds the buttons in the front.

When her undergarments fall away his lips, his mouth finds her nipple and her fingers weave into his silver hair. It’s ridiculous to her how fast her body arches towards him, encouraging him shamelessly. It’s been so long since they were like this, at least two lifetimes away and yet it was like yesterday. Memories being replaced by the now, even if they were older, their hair greyed, their faces with more lines than she would have ever imagined. They weren’t young anymore, far from it, but you wouldn’t know it by how her body shivered and his tensed with each other’s’ touches.

When her breath starts to become even shallower than before, he breaks away, nips at the other breast and turns them, she’s down on the bed now and he’s hovering over her now. He’s amazed at how perfect she is even after all this time between them. He tugs at her underwear, the scrap that it was and her legs help him make quick work removing it. Then his fingers are there slowly parting her.

She missed his fingers and his hands, she could write volumes about his hands and fingers and now he was pressing into her and she was not opposed. Everything from the last few days was filling her head and it was easy, so easy for him to find a rhythm that was working for her. Her breath was transforming into little yelps. She never could be quiet when he was manipulating her, no matter what. Her body was arched back, her eyes closed and all she could think was that she wanted more.

This made him smile and if she was looking at him, she would have seen the sparkle in his eyes then. Her sigh of disappointment was very clear as he withdrew his fingers but he was about to correct that momentarily. She was still so limber, it amazed him as he pushed her legs even further apart as he drew himself to his knees to undo his pants. He should have taken more time to make sure that they were both naked, but there’s something to be said about her stockings and he just wants to make her happy now, make her forget everything just as much as he wants to forget the outside world.

Her grunt is almost primal as she pushes against him and his hands have her hips firmly between them. She’s bucking against him and now he groans as they do the dance to find the rhythm that works for her. This was always the time in their lovemaking that he had to assert himself, nonverbally directing her to calm down as he moved within her, guiding her to a rhythm. This was something that always made him laugh because she had perfect rhythm on the dance floor but had no sense for it here. 

It’s a game, an old familiar game that’s been played since the dawn of time, pushing and pulling, thrusts and dips, pressure and release. He works to make sure she finds her release and it teased them both for a moment, seemingly out of reach but when he could feel her body clench desperately around him he knew that she had found it. That was what pushed him over the edge and soon his face is buried next to hers and he’s whispering nonsense to her and she nods. Her hands are in his hair, or trailing down his back as they ask if the other is alright, reassuring and little kisses. His arms wrapping around hers and soon they’re turned again, their legs pushing the last of his clothes away, on his back, her head on his chest.

The sun is about to come up soon and she tries not to think about it because there was a time a long time ago, when she was alone, that she would wait desperately for the sunrise, for it was the only time she would allow herself to think of him. She wants to banish the sun from ever rising again because she knows whatever this evening was it could not be repeated again. The only time they could ever exist it seems, is in this half-light. There is no prevailing, the two of them, outside of this room. There is no living like they want outside this moment.

He wonders if he’s put their demons to rest for now because he’s filled with sadness and joy right now. It was amazing to be with her again but it’s nothing that can be spoken about or repeated again anytime soon. It was foolish and he was the chief fool between them. He thinks for the thousandth time on how this was not meant to be, no matter what she says to console him. They would do anything for each other and that, he thinks, is what this twilight encounter was. He thinks about his litany, for her to let him go, to make her give up on him and to do without him. After this, he seriously doubts that this will ever come to pass.


End file.
